Outsides
by DeathIsPeachy
Summary: Draco sits and reflects because there is nothing else to do. PostHBP. Long Oneshot, Drabble


**Outside**

**Summery**: Draco sits and reflects because there is nothing else to do. Post-HBP. Oneshot, Drabble, though it will be used as part of DeathIsPeachy's longer project (read profile).

**Prompt**: 005. Outsides (Yes, tis lame of me to call the story almost the same thing as the prompt, but it fit so well…)

**Disclaimer**: Don't own HP…nope…

**Author**: Crazed

Outside it was raining. Raining softly, but still raining. The sky had a grey over cast and thunder rumbled lightly. No lightening could be seen, but it didn't mean there wouldn't be any coming. The trees swayed lightly in the wind, bending side to side, back and forth, memorizing those who watched long enough. The long grasses bent with the weight of the water that had collected upon them. No creature could be seen moving. The world was dead.

Through the window, Draco stared outside from the broken table he sat at.

Outside, the wizarding world talked of Dumbledore's death, of Snape's betrayal, of Draco's deed. They mourned Dumbledore, cursed Snape and Draco, and feared what came next.

They cared not that Draco had been a coward, lowering his wand in the face of the task assigned to him by the Dark Lord. They didn't know, and probably wouldn't care, that Draco could not have killed Dumbledore. But Draco knows.

Draco sighs and moves his eyes to the swing hanging from the tree outside, caught in the wind.

Outside, somewhere, Mr. Malfoy sits in a cell, content with his son. His son, who has bore the weight of his father's hopes and beliefs without pause to question. His son, who took on the duty, who became a Death Eater to keep his father alive. His son, who struggled with an _honorable_ task from the Greatest Lord the wizarding world has ever known…

..and failed. Not that it matters, the task was completed, even if it was not by Draco's own hand. His father (and his mother) is safe. Draco isn't.

Outside, the wizarding searches high and low for Draco and Snape, wanting revenge.

The swing twists and turns, outside.

Draco cannot go outside. He is stuck, running and hiding, fearful…and doubtful.

Outside the wind picks up. The rain now beats a taboo upon the window. The thunder growls with menace.

Draco looks around the small kitchen. It's all shades of grey, a thick layer of dust covering the place except for were Snape and Draco had walked or sat, and even then the dust remained clinging to the surface. The dust is formidable; it has even penetrated Draco's once designer robes, leaving Draco as grey as his prison.

Outside, Draco had been a proud pureblood, the best of the best. He had been the perfect example of a pureblood, never sinking to mudblood ways, friends only with the elite. He worn expensive robes of the finest kind and walked proudly for everyone to see…

He had been a puppet of the finest kind. His father pulled his strings and his head had been empty of individual thoughts. Draco regurgitated what his father said; mimicked what his father did. And, Draco had been blissfully blind of the puppet master.

Outside, Draco wears the Dark Mark, his sign of total submission to the Dark Lord. A mark that declares his willingness to kill or be killed, and to torture, to never betray his great Dark Lord, to follow his Lord to the end of all time. A mark used to show his hate of muggles and mudblood and half bloods. A mark used to put fear in the hearts of those apposed to the Great Lord. A mark of death and devotion, which is worn proudly so all can know and so all can fear….

Draco lacks devotion, and he could not kill. He does not wish to die. And he is unsure on how he stands with idea of blood. Before his father was imprisoned, Draco had no free time to think for himself. Without his father, Draco's mind began to wander. He began to think for himself…in small steps. And with his submission to the Dark Lord and the acquiring of a task, Draco found his mind wandering more often to relieve the burden he was carrying.

Outside, Draco is a good Death Eater. He gave the others access to Hogwarts without help. He kept the attack a secret. He only failed to kill Dumbledore because he was only a child after all.

Draco regrets becoming a Death Eater. His actions have left him and Snape on the run. Now Draco does nothing but think…there is little else to do. And with all the time to think, he has thought upon some strange topics.

Outside lightening flashes and illuminates Draco's scowling face, his eyes locked onto a smug on the wall and his hair disheveled. A crack of thunder follows suite and rattles the window pane.

Outside, Draco despised Hogwart's Golden Trio….the Weasel, the Mudblood, and, above all else, the Prat-Who-Lived.

Draco still hates them, but with all his time to think he knows his hate stems from his own failings.

As a puppet, Mudbloods were the scum of the earth, the worst of the worst. And yet the Granger Mudblood out did Draco in every sense, the know it all. She undid Draco's beliefs, his _religion_, that had been hammered into him since before Draco could remember. She undid his beliefs and was better than Draco…and so Draco hated her. Not necessarily because Granger _was_ a mudblood, but because she was a mudblood _and_ the school's best student. She was what she should not be…something Draco could not muster the courage to accomplish.

As a pureblood puppet, family was everything, as was money. The youngest male Weasel seemed not to notice, nor care, about his family's history or the state of their finances. As Draco tried to live up to his father's standards, the Weasel was free to be a no body, his brothers carrying all the fame before him and his parents loving him just for being who he was. And yet the Weasel, without the burden of living up to his family's name, out did Draco was well by becoming friends with the wizarding world's boy savior. The Weasel brought to more to his family's name than Draco could, without a need to even do so. Draco also admits to himself he's slightly jealous of the Weasel's family, so free and happy together, in a way Draco knew the Malfoys were incapable of. And so, Draco hates the Weasel, not because his family is poor or muggle-loving, but because he out did Draco by being friends with the famous Boy-Who-Lived…

"Potter…" Draco sneers under his breath.

Outside the lightening comes down in a frenzy and hail begins to beat at the door and the window. The trees bend at odd angles and the grass spins patterns in the wind.

Potter, the Dark Lord's enemy, the Boy-Who-Lived, the orphaned savior, the muggle raised innocent, Dumbledore's favorite…Draco envied him whilst believing Potter to be the largest fool that ever was.

Potter's parents had died fighting the Dark Lord, leaving Potter free from all ties to them. Potter is real to become whoever or whatever he wished. Potter owes his parents nothing because they died, leaving him to his muggle relatives. If anything, Potter should hate his parents because they left him to 10 years of torture. So, Draco envies Potter, because Potter is free, Potter is not a puppet, Potter has no burdens from his family.

And yet, Potter lives up to his parents' names. He fights against the Dark Lord to honor and avenge his parents. He is as every bit a muggle lover as they were. And so, Draco sees Potter as a fool for not choosing to be free and envies Potter a second time over because Potter lives up to his family so much better than Draco could ever hope to.

Outside Draco hates Potter…yet wishes he could be him…

Outside the storm rages on, and Draco sits and thinks and the conflict begins again, inside Draco's mind, just as it had many times over the past school year.

Draco does not wish to be a puppet any longer, but he does not wish his family harm. And his brain swirls with old circular arguments, his brain reaching the point where he would normally give up and cry unable to understand his own reasoning…

..but, from outside, a new thought enters. Dumbledore said he could keep Draco and his family safe. And Draco wants to believe him, but Dumbledore is dead. And Draco toys with this thought and Potter enters Draco's thoughts again. Potter, Dumbledore's favorite, could keep Draco safe.

Outside lightening crashes just across the yard's fence, and Draco viciously shakes his head. And then reconsiders, his eyes glazing over in thought.

Dumbledore did not work alone, and Potter surely knows who Dumbledore trusted. Draco realizes he was a fool in thinking Dumbledore himself would protect Draco. No, Dumbledore would have used others to do this, to keep Draco safe.

But Dumbledore is dead…but perhaps Potter can be convinced, even if Draco doubts this. If Draco told Potter of Dumbledore's offer, Potter just might go all noble, Potter's Gryffindor side might show, and agree to pick that offer up where Dumbledore had left it lying on the floor. It would come with a price, Draco knows, but seeing as Draco never truly gave his alliance to the Dark Lord, spilling secrets would cause no moral conflict within Draco.

Outside lightning struck the tree behind the house and Draco made up his mind. He would seek protection through Potter, but hell if he would ever apologize to the prat, or the others; he was still above _that_. And besides, he'd only be apologizing for mistakes any could make, and apologizing for being a fool would make him all more the fool. Rushing from the table to gather his few possessions he has in this prison, Draco is glad the Dark Lord is having a meeting, for Snape is not in the house as Draco works.

Finishing the task and stealing himself for the conflicts to come, Draco looks out the window.

Outside the rain and hail have stopped. The trees no longer bend, the grass no longer swirls, and the wind is dead. Birds begin to appear. The sky is lighter and there is color in the world again.

Draco throws his cloak about his shoulders and throws the hood up before heading out outside.

It's only a break before the real storm comes.

_...reveiw?...-Crazed_


End file.
